


The Perfect Enemy

by Peyton_Stark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Sexual Frustration, Slow Burn, Top Draco, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peyton_Stark/pseuds/Peyton_Stark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the dead rise, Auror's, Harry and Draco must work together, despite their differences to save wizards and Muggles alike. ZOMBIES. Draco/Harry. AU-ish. Slow burn Drarry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote a while ago and just recently found and decided to continue, so please excuse any mistakes. It will be a chaptered piece and later chapters will include smut and adult content. Draco/Harry slow burn relationship with a side of light Ron/Hermione. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Don’t sue! Not mine. But I do enjoying playing!

Paperwork. Stacks and stacks of paperwork. Harry was in for a boring work day. The downside to being a Auror was the mounds of paperwork he had to do once he'd closed a case. Or several cases, as it were.

The tap-tap of his quill being drummed against the desks edge was overly loud in his office, but he tuned it out and instead looked over the paperwork that sat neatly on the shiny surface of his desk. He pursed his lips in annoyance. He loved the hands on stuff; fighting bad guys and besting dark wizards with light magic. But when it came to writing out reports and filing them, he was slack. Frequently he was late on submitting his reports. Today would probably be no different.

It wasn't until he was a fraction of the way through his paperwork and his lunch break was nearing did anything remotely exciting happen. The excitement for the day came in the form of a stumbling Ron entering his office so quickly Harry jumped like he'd been caught doing something naughty. A sheet of paper drifted to the ground as Ron rushed up to his desk, slamming his palms onto the surface; words spilled from his lips the whole time, and Harry felt adrenaline warm his blood when he caught the gist of what his best-friend was saying.

“They caught a group of teenagers and killed them – I can't believe it, we haven't dealt with Inferi since, well, since Voldemort was around. They are horrid creatures, but Kingsley said they are controlled. Y'know? Like by a dark wizard or witch. Think we'll have to go after the wizard or witch who's raising them. I can't believe it; this is the most exciting case we've got so far!”

“Ron. Breathe.” Harry said, standing from his hard-backed chair and reaching over the desk to place his hands on the redhead’s shoulders. “Inferi attacked some teenagers, right?” he questioned.

Ron huffed a breath of air from his nose and nodded. “Yeah, mate. And killed them, I didn't realise how strong they were.”

“Were the teenager’s witches and wizards? Muggles?” Harry asked, trying to gather as much information as possible. Ron's nose twitched with anticipation. “Who's working the case with us?” Harry inquired. Ron's face fell.

“They were witches and wizards,” Ron informed, then he said with a sour expression decorating his freckled face, “And Malfoy is on the case with us.”

Something icy wriggled in-between Harry's ribs and he gasped out a curse word before he could self-censor. Ron didn't seem to mind, he just nodded sagely and then shook his head.

“I don't know why Kingsley decided to let him become a Auror. He was a bloody _Death Eater_ , and a major git.” Said Ron with hatred dripping off his words thickly.

Malfoy had had a trial. It lasted longer than most. Harry had testified for him, claiming that he had got mixed up in the wrong crowd, telling Kingsley that Malfoy was, besides the Dark Mark, a good person, just misguided and confused. He felt he owed it to Malfoy, seems as Narcissa Malfoy had most definitely contributed to the light winning the war.

“Does he know? That he's working alongside us?” Harry wanted to know.

Ron shrugged. “You were the first person I came to tell,” something warm heated Harry's chest at the thought that Ron held him high above anyone else, even his girlfriend, but then again, it could have been because Hermione worked in the Magical Law Department, and that was a significant way away from the Auror Offices. “I don't fancy talking to the prick. Care to do the honours?” Ron gave Harry a cheeky smile and Harry rolled his eyes.

“He's _my_ rival, why do I have to inform him?”

“Because, if I do, I'll probably end up hexing is arse into next month.” Harry's eyebrows climbed up his forehead at Ron's statement. “He rubs me the wrong way.” Ron clarified.

“Well, he certainly doesn't rub me the right way.” As soon as the words left his tongue Harry knew they sounded wrong. Dirty. Sexual. He clamped his mouth shut, looked at Ron's smirking face and then brushed past him, around the desk. “I'll be right back.” He promised, fitfully blushing and ignoring his earlier statement.

Malfoy's office was only a few doors down the corridor from his. He stood outside the closed door in a matter of seconds, staring at the sign that said: _Knock and WAIT_. Underlined numerous times for effect.

He ignored the sign, instead opting to push open the door and lean on the door-frame with his left shoulder. A harassed Malfoy glared daggers at him, his grey eyes hot with venom. His hair was tousled, not just messy like Harry's, but purposefully styled. His black robes were pristine and neatly arrange, but there was a look to his features that told Harry that the blond was having a bad day. He smirked inwardly and relished in making his day even worse. Even at twenty-one, Harry still felt the school-boy rivalry with Malfoy. It was still as heated, only they had both matured since their school days, and rarely resorted to hexing one another, he keyword there being, _rarely_. On the odd occasion it would all go to hell and they'd come to spelled blows.

“Potter?” Malfoy said in his drawling accent. His eyes flicked down to his paperwork and then back up at Harry leaning causally against his door-frame. “Is there a reason for your presence in my office? I'm trying to work – I know that's an odd thing for you to comprehend.” He sneered, lifting his upper lip to reveal his teeth.

Harry narrowed his gaze, hating how Malfoy got under his skin with every word uttered. “I do my work, Malfoy,” hissed Harry through his teeth. Malfoy just raised a silver-blond eyebrow into his hairline and looked down at his quill. A black feathered, poncy looking thing. Harry glared at it as it started moving across the parchment and he realised Malfoy was ignoring him. Maybe he should have let Ron talk to him, he wouldn't mind if the git got his arse hexed to be perfectly honest. “I'm here to tell you something.”

“Spit it out then. I haven't got all day, Potter.” Malfoy sighed, looking like he had better things to do than deal with Harry.

“We're working a case together; Ron, you and I.” Harry said with a satisfied smile stretching his lips at Malfoy's blatant look of surprise. “Inferi attack.” He said shortly when Malfoy raised both his eyebrows in silent askance.

“And where's your partner in crime?”

“He's in my office,”

Malfoy got to his feet, dropping his quill to his half-finished paperwork and strode elegantly around the desk. When he brushed his shoulder past Harry's Harry caught the scent of fresh lemons. He inhaled deeply, caught himself in the act of admiring his enemies scent, and the spluttered like some feeding fish. Apparently Malfoy saw the likeness also.

“Are you going to stand there like some fish out of water, or are you coming?”

“Coming? Coming where?” Harry asked, blinking.

It had the potential to set up a dirty response from the blond, but Malfoy ignored Harry's breathless tone and instead stormed off down the corridor. “To collect Weasley, of course. Can't start a formal investigation without the rest of our team can we?” Malfoy said, snippy.

Harry swallowed hard, deciding to ignore the sweet scent still lingering in the air, he followed on clumsy, noisy feet. Hating Malfoy for being so smooth and elegant when he walked.

Harry walked quickly and caught up to Malfoy before he entered his office. When Malfoy saw the stacks upon stacks of paperwork on his desk, not even halfway completed, he sniffed disdainfully.

“ _I do my work, Malfoy._ ” He mocked in a bad impression of Harry's voice. Harry glared at the back of his shiny head and then stormed past him and into his office. Ron was resting the small of his back against the desks edge and was watching Harry's expression with mild curiosity.

“How many Inferi are we dealing with?” Malfoy asked Harry once he'd settled against the door-frame in a parody of what Harry must have looked like in his office.

Harry shrugged, not a very professional thing to do, but he honestly didn't have the information on him. “Ron?” he asked, looking to his friend, who cleared his throat and begun to list details to them.

“Witness reports suggest at least nine Inferi. Three teenagers were killed in the early hours of the morning; they were found in a back-alley.”

“Who were the witnesses?” Malfoy wanted to know.

Ron pushed off the edge of the desk. “Hestilia Knotwood. And her daughter, Amanda Knotwood.” Malfoy took a breath through his nose at the mention of their names.

“You know them?” Harry questioned.

“You could say that.” Malfoy replied, stiffly. Harry opened his mouth to ask more questions, but the glare Malfoy sent him rendered him speechless. “When are we going to be able to speak to the witnesses?”

Ron shrugged his broad shoulders, his Auror robes whispering with the movement. “Soon, they are being brought in by Ministry Officials. Shouldn't be long now.”

“Who's questioning them?” Malfoy asked next.

Harry felt like he should have asked all those questions earlier. He felt second to Malfoy and hated the feeling of being second best.

“All of us. We'll do a joint interview. Easier when they are together and can get all the details out.” Ron said.

Malfoy nodded and then swept from the office. Harry shared a glance with Ron before barrelling after him.

“Malfoy?” he posed it as a question, but it came out more of a growl of annoyance. The blond turned on his heels, his robes rustling about his shiny, black shoes. “Where are you going?”

“To finish my paperwork while we wait for the witnesses to be brought in. You should do the same.”

“Don't tell me what to do.” Harry snapped. But it was weary more so than heated. He turned, rather broadly, on his heel and then tried to _sweep_ , like Malfoy had, back into his office. He managed to tread on the hem of his Auror robes – blasted things didn't come in a smaller size – and he stumbled instead of swept. Malfoy snorted amusement and Harry bit his tongue to hold back a swear word.

He slammed his door so hard the paintings on his walls rattled and threatened to fall. Ron raised his eyebrows in question and Harry huffed out an aggravated exhale.

“He gets on my last nerve.”

“I know, mate. But we have to work with him. Despite him being a prick, he's actually good at what he does.” Ron said and it sounded like he was choking on the nice words about Malfoy. He spat them out in the wrong tone, it was more annoyed than kind. Harry slumped into his chair, toeing the piece of paper on the ground that Ron had made flurry to the floor with his dramatic entrance.

“Tell me when the witnesses arrive, yeah?” he said to Ron who nodded his head, his ginger bangs falling into his eyes.

“Sure thing.” Ron eyed Harry's large stack of paperwork with something close to nausea flickering across his face. “That's a lot of paperwork.” He said. “I have hardly any to do.”

“That's because I took on the Redwin case.” Harry explained and Ron ah-ed. Not to mention two other cases on the sly. Harry was top Auror, he drew in more cases than most, he also worked effectively and quickly and brought in more bad wizards and witches than many of the Auror's combined. It was a bit of a sore point for Ron, who had always lived in Harry's shadow.

Ron cleared his throat when a silence stretched between them and then said, “Best be getting onto my workload.”

With those words said he strode from Harry's office with a click of his heels upon the polished floor. Harry sighed when he was gone and returned to his mountain of paperwork, albeit reluctantly.

 

#

 

Hestilia Knotwood was a crotchety old woman with a tendency to suck her wrinkled lips into her mouth before she spoke. Her daughter, Amanda, was young, around Harry's age, and very beautiful with long, loosely curled brunette hair and round, dark eyes. As soon the three of them walked into the interview room, which was basically Ron's office with a few extra chairs placed around the small space, Amanda's eyes went, if possible, rounder and her lips opened in a little 'o' of surprise. Harry, being stationed next to Malfoy and basically rubbing shoulders with the blond, felt him stiffen and his breath caught in his chest. Harry looked between the two of them, his eyes narrowed as he took in the pinked cheeks of Amanda and Malfoy's own blushing face. If Ron caught on to it as well, he ignored it easily and begun the interview with an 'ahem'.

“Mrs. Knotwood,” Ron was saying, Harry tuned in and turned his attention away from Malfoy and Amanda. “You're aware of why you were brought in for an interview, I assume?”

The old lady licked her lips and then sucked them into her mouth before she replied in a croaky voice. “Yes dear,” she said. “I – or should I say – _we_ , witnessed a crime being committed.” She said in a stage whisper, as if she were sharing a secret. She sat in a hard-backed chair, her pale, wrinkled hands resting in her lap.

Ron nodded. “And what type of crime did you see committed?”

Hestilia's eyes went wide. “ _Murder,_ ” she said so quietly all three of them had to lean in to hear. Malfoy's shoulder bumped against Harry's while they did so and Harry sent him a brief, hot glare that Malfoy deflected with one of his own.

“And who committed the murder, Mrs. Knotwood?” Harry was surprised to hear Malfoy's smooth, drawling voice speaking and realised, belatedly, that he probably should be taking notes in his pad and asking questions also.

“Inferi. They just killed them.” She said in a shell-shocked voice that was laced with fear. Ron nodded again, ever the professional. Harry leaned forward and looked into Hestilia's stagnant grey eyes.

“It must have been terrifying, we are going to be asking some extensive questions, if you need a break at any time, just say so.” He said, softly. Ron gave him a thankful look; the redhead was never very good at the emotional stuff. Malfoy, his back ramrod straight, sent Harry a curious glance.

Hestilia gave a weak smile in return. “We'll do our best to inform you of all we know.”

Harry smiled back, in a reassuring way. “Thank you, Mrs. Knotwood.”

Ron cleared his throat and continued with the questions, each one growing heavy with intent on finding out what had transpired. Amanda, halfway through the interview, reached out to take her mother's hand in hers and she held it throughout the rest of the interview.

Harry noticed Malfoy's questions were completely directed at Hestilia and never Amanda and something in his chest reared up and screamed at him for missing something that was in plain sight. But try as he might to place it, he couldn't figure out what was going on between the two of them.

By the time the interview was over Hestilia's eyes were red-rimmed from tears and Amanda was pale faced and subdued. Harry shook hands with Hestilia, thanking her profusely for coming in and telling her account, knowing how hard it must have been for her to have witnessed a murder. Harry had seen a lot of death in his short time alive, so he understood how she must have felt. When he reached out to take Amanda's hand she smiled shyly at him and said, “You're the-boy-who-lived.”

Harry smiled politely. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He joked back. “Thank you for coming and giving your account today.” He said. Amanda blushed when their hands meet. Harry pulled away, not noticing the glare Malfoy was sending the back of his head.

Harry kept a steady eye on Amanda and Malfoy when they said farewell, he noticed they barely touched hands when shaking goodbye. Something was off, something was curious about their behaviour and Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

 

#

 

It was on their lunch break that they met in Hermione's office, the three of them munching on Hermione's handmade salad sandwiches. Harry sat on her dark mahogany desk, his robes discarded on his lap and his plain black T-shirt and faded jeans on show. Ron was stripped down also but Hermione, always the professional, still wore her purple robes.

“Inferi?” Hermione was saying in response to Ron blurting out their case details. She sat behind her desk with her food held forgotten in her hands. “But they haven't been around for years. And who would be dark enough to raise them and control them? Are you certain it was Inferi who killed the three teenagers? Could it of been something else?”

Ron shook his head. “It was definitely Inferi. Mrs. Knotwood and her daughter were sure of it. Said they looked like corpse. Decayed, rotting corpses, Hermione.” Ron said with a green tinge to his skin. Harry swallowed his mouthful a bit thickly, he'd only seen Inferi once before, and that hadn't been a pleasant meeting. He shivered at the memory of their cold skin, drawn sallow over jutting bones and suddenly he wasn't hungry.

Hermione tucked an awry piece of curling hair behind her ear and huffed. “Do you have any leads?”

“None.” Harry spoke up. Placing his half eaten sandwich on the plate that sat beside him of the desktop. “Hestilia and Amanda didn't see anything odd – aside from Inferi ripping the kids to bits, that is – or anything out of the ordinary.”

“No strange figures in the shadows?” Hermione asked. Both Ron and Harry shook their heads. “You think it's a Voldemort wannabe?”

Ron shrugged one shoulder, chewing his bite thoughtfully. “Could be,” he said once he'd swallowed. “I mean, there's been heaps of dark wizards and witches who have tried to mimic his ways, hasn't there?”

“You have to be pretty powerful to raise the dead and control them.” Harry said. “Whoever we are dealing with isn't someone to be taken lightly. We have to treat them as the powerful wizard or witch that they are. And with power can come smarts. We can't be outsmarted by them, that could mean losing our lives or the life of an innocent.”

Hermione nodded along with his words. “Harry's right. Only very powerful and strong wizards and witches can raise Inferi. Especially so many, you mentioned there were nine of them?” she said to Ron.

Ron dipped his chin, taking another bite of his sandwich. Harry picked at the crust of his own, still not feeling hungry, he was too excited and anxious to start the investigation process.

“What does Draco think about it all?”

“ _Draco?_ ” Ron asked, flashing Hermione a bemused look. “Why are you calling him by his first name?”

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Because using last names create distance, and besides, he's changed since Hogwarts –”

“He's still a git, Hermione!” Harry said, fervently.

“He's a ponce.” Ron grumbled and Hermione rolled her eyes again at her boys.

“Moving on, what does he think about it all?”

Ron finished his sandwich and smacked his hands together to rid his fingers of the crumbs. “He's as clueless as us. We have no lead, but he suggested we go to the murder site and check for any evidence and such.”

“That's a good idea.” Hermione said and Ron just raised and dropped his shoulders, not about to give Malfoy credit for a good idea. “When are you going?”

“As soon as lunch break is over.” Harry replied. Hermione smoothed her hands down the front of her purple robes and cast a Tempus charm to check the time. It was a quarter past one, they still have fifteen minutes left of their lunch break.

“How did Draco take to working with you two?” Hermione asked.

“Better than we have taken to working with him, I think. Although he was acting odd in the interview, it was like he was avoiding Amanda, as much as he could when he was forced to sit in an office with her, anyway.” Harry said. Wanting to bring up Malfoy's oddness but not really having an opportunity. If Hermione or Ron noticed the abrupt change in conversation topic, neither of them said anything.

“He said he knew them, right?” Ron said.

“Not outright, but I think he does know them.” Harry said. Hermione folded her arms over her chest in thought.

“Could it be that Draco has past history with Amanda?” she asked.

“Like what?” Ron questioned.

“Like as in an ex-girlfriend?” Hermione supplied.

Harry's heartbeat picked up its pace and he felt strangely light-headed. The reason why eluded him. Ron hummed in his throat.

“It could be possible; he was acting very coy.” He said and Harry's heart ratcheted up another notch. Hermione's dark eyes landed on Harry's green, holding his gaze.

“What do you think, Harry?”

Harry honestly didn't know what he thought. He never really thought of Malfoy having girlfriends, although he knew Pansy Parkinson used to drape herself over him at school. Still, it was odd thinking that he had _sexual_ relationships. Harry wasn't certain why, but it was.

“I honestly don't know what to think. But I hope whatever is between them that it doesn't interfere with the case.”

Hermione nodded her head, her curly, frizzy hair bounced about her cheeks at the movement. “You could just ask him outright, instead of speculating.” She offered and Ron snorted unamused laughter from his nose.

“Yeah, 'oh, hey Malfoy, did you sleep with Amanda back in the day? And if so, will it impact on our case?'” Harry smiled at Ron's rhetorical question but Hermione huffed with exasperation.

“You don't put it like that.” She said matter-of-factly. “And anyway, it's really none of your business who he has slept with. Is it?”

Both men looked a little shameful and they shook their heads in unison.

“Guess not,” Ron said and Harry folded his robes over his forearm and slipped from Hermione's desk.

“We should get going, the walk back to the Auror Department chews up quite a bit of time.” He said. Hermione stood from her chair, a modern swivel one, and paced around to place a soft kiss to Ron's lips. Harry pretended he wasn't staring at them and received a peck on the cheek from Hermione.

“Be careful and stay safe, won't you?” she inquired.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I'm always careful, Hermione.” They both knew it was a lie, but she let it slide and instead patted down a tuff of his hair. It promptly stuck up again. “We'll see you later,” Harry said and Hermione bobbed her head.

 

#

 

“It smells like death here.” Malfoy stated in an undertone.

Harry sniffed the air while looking over the blood stains on the ground of the back-alley. His stomach felt sickened by the pungent scent of decay and death that was thick in the air. It was under strict orders from Kingsley that the alleyway hadn't been magically cleaned up, and Harry was certain he could see chucks of _something_ mixed with the congealing blood. Ron was holding his nose and when he talked his voice was nasally and somewhat high.

“Just get on with it, Malfoy, we're professionals.”

“Says the guy holding his nose.” Malfoy quipped back.

Harry sighed and pulled his wand out of his jeans pocket. Malfoy eyed it warily, probably expecting to be hit with a hex, but Harry just began running the tip of his wand across the jagged wall of the back-alley, searching for hidden magic. Ron caught on quickly and began the same process on the opposite wall.

There were high windows placed sporadically along the wall and Harry looked into one, the glass was filmy and fogged with age. He couldn't see through it properly, but he caught movement inside and stopped tracking for hidden magic abruptly.

“Potter –?” Malfoy made to say, clearly catching his smooth movements coming to a jerky stop.

“Shut up, for a sec.” Harry whispered. “There's someone inside the building.” He said under his breath. Ron stopped what he was doing and walked over to peer through the filmy glass. His hands shielding his eyes so he could better see inside. Malfoy drew his wand from the inside of his robes and held it in a white knuckled grip.

Ron drew back with an intake of air through his mouth suddenly, so flinching were his movements that they made Harry instinctively crouch and cover his head with his arms, and lucky he did, for a breath of a second later the window shattered and a figure came barrelling out of the shattering glass shards, growling like some animal.

Ron was thrown backwards by the force and Harry was in no position to perform a spell, thankfully Malfoy was on the ball and he threw a Stupefy at the figure. Only it didn't stop it.

“You missed!” Harry shouted and jumped out of his crouch before sending off a wordless binding spell.

“I never miss, Potter.” Malfoy retorted and he muttered a binding spell under his breath. Both spells hit the figure, but once again were proven futile. “What the hell?” Draco swore.

Ron was on his feet by now and sent a rope-binding spell at the figure, that stumbled and _growled_. The flying ropes wrapped around the figures throat and waist and legs, bringing it down onto the ground with a smack of sound.

“There's something wrong here,” Malfoy was saying, but Harry didn't listen and dashed forward, intent on finding out just who, or what, the figure was. Malfoy stepped forward and grabbed a hold of Harry's bicep, Harry ripped his arm from the blonds hold easily and spun on his heel to have a thorough go at him. But Malfoy's eyes held something close to fear and Harry stopped dead.

“Malfoy?”

Malfoy raised his wand abruptly and Harry flinched and whipped his up in front of his chest, ready to ward off any attack the young Malfoy might send his way. But when Ron shouted his name with dread lacing each syllable, Harry realised Malfoy wasn't aiming at him, but at the figure who had somehow escaped the rope binding spell and was lunging for him.

Malfoy used a silent spell, that Harry absently thought must have been Rictusempra by the silver light it gave off. He ducked on instinct and his knees collided painfully with the ground.

“Stupefy!” Ron shouted.

“It's useless, Weasley! Our spells aren't working on it.” Malfoy informed with exasperation. He looked down at Harry, his grey eyes alive with adrenaline and dread and something else that Harry couldn't pinpoint. “Get up, Potter, and help!” he said when he noticed Harry's eyes on him.

Harry wrenched himself to his feet, spinning on his feet to face the figure. What he saw made his stomach clench and churn. Cobwebbed eyes stared at him from the shadows of the alleyway. Milky white and dead looking, glassy and looking like some spider had spun its web across them. The stench of decaying flesh hit Harry's nose full force and he doubled over when he realised he was staring at a half-decayed man.

“Merlin!” Ron gasped and Malfoy looked like he was holding back a dry-retch.

Harry pulled himself together enough to send off a body-bind spell, it hit the man and had no effect whatsoever.

“You missed, Potter.” Malfoy drawled with sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Harry sent the blond a glare for his trouble and turned back to face the man in time to see him lunged for Ron. His yellow teeth were open and strings of thick saliva were stung between them.

“Ron! Move!” Harry bellowed. Ron ducked to one side, rolling effortlessly out the way. Malfoy sent off a rope-binding spell and caught the man mid-jump.

“Call for back-up, our spells aren't working!” Malfoy grunted, a fine sweat breaking out on his forehead. Ron was quick with a Patronus. Harry dashed forward and cast a rope-binding spell also, hoping both his and Malfoy's would keep the man at bay long enough for help to arrive.

It only took a minute for three Auror's to Apparate into the back-alley, their robes rustling and their wands at the ready.

“Our magic isn't working against it!” Malfoy informed.

A drawn featured woman was looking over the man with quick, clever eyes. “It's an Inferius,” she summed up. But Harry wasn't so sure. He'd dealt with Inferi, and although his spells hadn't worked greatly on them, they still affected them.

The woman waved her wand through the air in a great arc and them mumbled something Harry didn't catch. A great flame burst from the tip of her wand and barrelled for the 'Inferius'. Harry shielded his eyes with his forearm from the blinding light the flame gave off. When he lowered his arm, he stared at a shell-shocked Auror and one very intact 'Inferius'.

“I don't understand.” She muttered.

“This is bad,” Ron breathed. “How are we meant to kill it?”

“We don't. We capture it, cast a rope-binding spell at once and Apparate directly to Magical Creatures Department.” Malfoy said and Harry had to admit, he had brains in his head. It was at least one idea that might just work.

“Alright, on three.” The woman Auror said. “One, two, three.” She counted down, and one the third word they all cast a rope-binding spell, capturing the creature. Immediately they disappeared with popping noises like popcorn exploding. Not a second was wasted. Harry felt the pull of Apparation and then he was reappearing in the Department of Magical Creatures.

#

 

He gasped as the sensation of Apparation left him and straightened up. Malfoy, the git, was not ruffled in the least and swept his tousled hair out of his eyes with a causal swipe of his fingertips. Harry glared at him and but more pressing matters captured his attention, such as the now unbound man who ran for the drawn featured woman with such speed it startled them all. The two burly guy Auror's sent off matching spell that did little in actually helping, and a lot in hindering Malfoy's and Harry's rope-binding spells.

Finally, after a tussle of spells, Malfoy managed to bind the irate man and Harry followed up with his own spell to make extra sure.

“Now what?” Ron asked.

“Now we get it to a secure room. I'm sure there'd be plenty of use in doing experiments on it, seems as how it is seemingly immune to most of our spells.” Malfoy said, matter-of-factly. The woman nodded her head, her tightly tied back hair looked like it was slicked with copious amounts of hair gel, then bun bit neat and with not a hair out of place.

“We've got it from here, I suggest you speak with the Minister and inform him what's transpired and what we have in custody.” She said to the three of them. Ron was more than happy to be let of the hook and nodded while Harry made to protest. “We've got it, Auror Potter.” She said more firmly. It was only when Ron grabbed his wrist and dragged him away did Harry comply, and it wasn't because he wanted to. He felt that his job had only been half done. But he trusted the other Auror's so he allowed the redhead to pull him down the corridor and to the lifts.

“That was odd. I've never know an Inferius to be immune to magic before. Especially fire.” Malfoy said when they were packed into a lift and on their way to Kingsley's office.

Harry held on to the handle that dangled above his head as the lift shot backwards, but it didn't help much in steadying him. He stumbled from the force of the lift charging backwards and hit his shoulder against Malfoy's, both glared at one another like it hadn't been an accident and Ron cleared his throat awkwardly.

“What do you reckon it was?” he asked.

Malfoy heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I really don't know,” he said. “But whatever it is, it's powerful. I'm sure extensive test will show something.”

“And what if they don't?” Harry spoke up.

Malfoy shot him a weary look. “I'm not the Oracle, I'm not all knowing, Potter.” He stated. Harry blushed around the ears and bit his bottom lip to stop a retort from spilling from his lips.

“Do you think all of them, y'know, the Inferi, were like that one? Not Inferi?” Ron tried to articulate his thoughts, but he didn't have much success. Harry nibbled on his lower lip for a pause and then ran his fingers through his already dreadfully messy hair.

“If they are that would be bad.” He said.

Malfoy snorted, not something Harry expected from the pure-blood. “It'd be more than bad, Potter. It'd be all out war.”

When Harry sent him a quizzical look he explained his thoughts more in depth.

“If there is a creature that magic can't take down, how are Muggles supposed to deal against them? If there are more of, well, whatever it was, it'll be war – again.”

“So, you don't think there's a witch or wizard controlling it? Them?” Harry asked.

Malfoy jerked when the lift came to an abrupt stop and smoothed down his robes. “I wouldn't rule it out. It could be an advanced spell controlling them, but my bets are on something the wizarding world hasn't seen before.”

Ron stepped from the lift and Harry and Malfoy followed suit. “Whatever it is, whatever they are, we'll have to talk to Kingsley and inform him of our thoughts.” Ron said.

“And tell him what? That we failed to take down an Inferi-esque creature that was immune to our magic? Tell him that we are all clueless?” Malfoy asked, somewhat rhetorically. Ron stopped walking and Harry almost collided with his back. He pulled up short and gave the redhead a glare for not giving him a warning.

“I have an idea. Let's go talk to Hermione?” Ron posed it as a question, even as he began his way back to the lifts.

“And why would be want to do that?” Malfoy asked.

“Because, she knows everything. Maybe she might know what we're dealing with!” Ron exclaimed.

Reluctantly Malfoy followed Ron, and Harry trailed at the rear.

 

#

 

They found Hermione in her office, mulling over a stack of parchment; a Magical Law book lay open by her right elbow. She looked up, her eyes curious to see the three men at her door. Seeing their varying state of exasperated she stood up, closing the book and placing the parchments into her desk drawer.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, placing her palms on the desktop. Ron made a noise in his throat that sounded like, 'no'. Malfoy spoke up, surprisingly civil and soft-toned to Hermione.

“We've run into a roadblock with our case, Weasley thought it might be useful to get your opinion on the matter.” He said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows up her forehead and nodded. “What is it you need help with?” she asked, equally as polite.

“We were attacked by an Inferi-esque creature, only it was immune to most of our spells. We had to call for back-up, and even then nothing appeared to work. A rope-binding spell held it down long enough to get it back to the Ministry. We were hoping you'd have some answers.” Malfoy replied, his voice smooth and confident. Harry half hated, half admired him for being able to speak so simply and convey everything easily.

Hermione sighed, “I'll need more detail.” She said. “What did it look like? How did it act?”

“It looked gross, Hermione,” Ron stated. “All decayed and rotten. And it sort of stumbled around, but moved really fast and kept trying to attack us.”

“It was feral, it was growling.” Malfoy added.

Hermione laughed a little. “It sounds like a zombie.” She said with mirth staining her words. Ron and Draco looked puzzled but Harry knew what she was on about and gave a hesitant chuckle.

“'Cept zombies don't exist,” he said. Hermione shook her head as if clearing away a thought.

“You're right, just my first impression. Are you sure it couldn't be dark magic controlling it? A darker magic than we are used to?” Hermione asked.

“What are zombies?” Ron asked.

“Sort of like the Muggle equivalent of a Inferius. You kill them by shooting them through the skull. Or breaking their neck. But otherwise nothing much will kill them.” Harry explained.

Malfoy looked thoughtful, Ron looked confused.

“Shoot them? Like with a spell?” the redhead asked.

Hermione gave a ringing laugh. “No silly, with a gun.” At Ron's odd look she said; “It's a Muggle weapon.”

He ah-ed. Malfoy suddenly spun on his heel, ever the elegant man, and swept from the room. Harry gave Ron and Hermione a look and then he dashed after the blond.

“Malfoy?”

“Give me a few minutes, Potter. I'm going to inform Auror Jenkins of something.”

“Auror Jenkins?” Harry questioned.

Malfoy turned his head to look over his shoulder at Harry. “The Auror that came to help us.” He said matter-of-factly. As if Harry should have known this and was wasting his time by questioning him.

“The one with the bun?” Harry asked. “The woman?”

“Who else?” Malfoy snapped. Harry swallowed as silver eyes bore into his and he felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Why are you going to inform her? Zombies don't exist.” Harry informed him.

Malfoy huffed, slowing his pace to allow Harry to catch up to him. Harry's shoes squeaked on the polished flooring loudly. “Potter,” he said and it sounded like he was far from happy that he had to engage Harry in conversation. “What are zombies?”

“I explained that already –”

“No. What are they to Muggles?”

“Fictional?”

“Exactly, and what is magic to Muggles? Fictional. Just because it's claimed to be fictional doesn't mean it can't be real.” Malfoy said. Harry had to admit he was making sense. And it wouldn't hurt to inform Auror Jenkins of their theory.

“I'm coming with you.” Harry said as they reached the lifts. “And if you're right about this, things could turn ugly.”

“Why?”

“Because when a zombie bites someone they pass the curse on to them. Thus making the bitten person a zombie, over time of course.”

Malfoy swore colourfully. “I hope I'm wrong.” He said. And Harry nodded.

“So do I.”

 

#

 

Auror Jenkins' face was stoic when Malfoy told her about their theory. It was pinched and her brow was furrowed. Malfoy looked expectantly at her after he finished talking. She had a completely serious face when she replied.

“And you said they could transform a bitten victim into one of them?” she reiterated, leaning her elbows on her desktop.

Harry hummed. “The infection spreads through bites, yes.”

Auror Jenkins looked momentarily startled and Harry thought he caught fear shining in the back of her hazel eyes. A second later, it was gone. “A shot to the head kills them?” she asked, appearing to mentally shake herself.

“Or breaking their necks, or even beheading would work, I suppose.” Harry replied, shifting in his chair that was stationed directly opposite Jenkins over the desk.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. Something very un-Malfoy-ish. “No need to get gory, Potter.”

Harry shot him a look. “I'm trying to be helpful.”

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply but Auror Jenkins cut him off. “I'll see if you are correct in the way to kill it. If you are, we'll have to inform the Minister of what we're dealing with. I'll send an interdepartmental memo once I gather some answers.”

She looked pointedly at the door and Harry got the hint. It was time to leave.

Once outside in the corridor he turned to Malfoy. “Not very polite of her to usher us out so hastily.”

“She's always been like that. She's concise. It's just her nature.” He informed. Then he began to walk swiftly down the corridor at a brisk pace, his shiny, black shoes clicking on the floor. “Are you coming?”

“Coming where?” Harry felt Deja vu happening and realised he needed to stop asking that question.

Malfoy didn't bother slowing down when he replied. “To the Auror Department. We have reports to do and some serious investigating to do also.” Then he disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry floundering in his wake.


End file.
